


dyed in your colours

by GryfoTheGreat



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 09:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GryfoTheGreat/pseuds/GryfoTheGreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven basketball-playing prodigies, seven different realities, and one long-suffering girl. Aida/MiraGen, in order from red to black.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. carmine

_red-_ _赤_

The black silky dress Akashi holds against her is beautiful, strappy and low cut and short. Delicately, she takes it from his hands, and inspects it. His mismatched eyes focus on her hands as they probe the dress, and flicker to her face as she caresses the chest area, frowning.

“I believe you have found the problem.”

“It’s beautiful, Akashi-kun-“

“Seijuuro. Please call me Seijuuro.”

“Yes, but... Seijuuro, it’s too big.”

“I believe I can remedy that.” He turns around and calls for a servant.

Aida observes him. He’s short, pale and not particularly muscular, but he wears his birthright as carelessly as the scarlet shirt that he hasn’t gotten around to buttoning.

His house is far more than a house. It is a mansion, full of history with gilded walls and marble floors (and a NBA-standard basketball court; she checked), scrubbed by servants every day. The Akashi family is an old one, richer than rich, with a pristine reputation and an annual ball.

The one that she is accompanying their heir to in half an hour.

The servant enters the room and hands Akashi a small bag. He takes it with a nod, and the servant vanishes.

He inspects the bag, grimaces slightly, and pulls a black push-up bra out.

Aida stares at him with her mouth ajar.

He drops it onto the bed, sheets rumpled, and pads over to her.

“In all honesty, Riko, I would prefer to have the dress taken in. I do not believe that your figure should matter, but...” He slides his hand down her arm and grasps her wrist. “The advisors insisted.”

Akashi likes nothing less than being ordered around. Akashi delights in control.

Aida knows this, so she raises her arms above her head.

He slides her shirt off gently, letting his nails scrape slightly against her skin, and tosses it to the floor. He then reaches behind her back and unhooks her bra with one hand, the other pulling it off by the straps.

He lets his hands ghost over her chest, and he inwardly smirks at her shiver. He’s done this before, but it feels new to her every time.

He retrieves the push-up bra from his bed, and fastens it around her, stepping back to drink in the effect, eyes trailing over her waist, her bare legs, her hips, her face.

“Is this okay?” she asks, voice hesitant.

“It is sufficient. Unnecessary, I believe, but sufficient. There is something else, however...”

He lifts up the bag again, and rummages in it again, and with an expression of extreme distaste pulls out a chicken fillet, clenched between his thumb and finger.

Aida almost bursts out laughing at him. He looks at her confusedly, and she walks over to him and takes it from him.

“Riko, you don’t have to wear them.” She looks up at him and swears he’s smiling.

“I’ll decide later on. Go get dressed.” Now he’s definitely smiling, and he slips out of the door a she collapses onto the bed with a sigh and puzzle on how she got tangled in this strange, beautiful boy’s world. _One_ _who stays_ _near vermilion_ _is stained_ _red;_ _one_   _who stays_ _near ink, black,_ _she recalls, and wonders how true it is._

She wears them in the end, and as she walks into the hall, hand-in-hand with Akashi, she watches as the men’s eyes fasten on her breasts. His hands squeezes hers tighter and he runs the pad of his thumb over the vulnerable inside of her wrist.

She is accepted immediately; the women compliment her hair, curled and tossed over her shoulder, her youthful skin, her slim legs. Kise swans by her with a wink and something that sounds like ‘from B to D, like magic!’

She stomps on his foot with her high heels.

Later on, leaning up against the cool wall outside the huge room, lights shining and music tinkling, she and Akashi watch the stars.

“Did that go well?” she asks.

“Perfectly, as per usual.” His voice is smooth and somewhat pleased. “However, I am afraid that Arai-san will not be invited back. He spent far too much time looking at your body.”

A thrill runs down her spine. “You couldn’t stop either.”

“Touché. But...” With a fluid movement he twists her around so that she‘s pressed up against the wall, eyes boring into hers. “I am allowed. Are you not mine?”

“Yes,” she breathes, marvelling at how perfectly he fits with her.

“Also...” Deftly, his hands dip into her cleavage.”You do not require these.” With that, he tosses the pieces of silicone over his shoulders to land with a _thump_ in the foliage of the garden.

She leans up to him and kisses him breathlessly.

Aida Riko turns to malleable putty in Akashi Seijuuro’s hands, and he smiles against her lips.


	2. amber

_yellow-_ _黄_

“Ryo, stop!” Aida shifts uncomfortably and swears at him.

“Rikocchi! So mean!” Kise pouts at her, eyes watering, lip trembling.

“I’m trying to work!”  She had planned to devote this day to detailing the parameters of the new team members.

Kise, however, had landed in her apartment, and dragged her out to eat and to go watch some idiotic movie. It would have been bearable, except his hand kept drifting below her waist at every given opportunity and the glasses had done nothing to discourage the hordes of fangirls, who shot constant death glares at Aida.

The movie had been nice though. Granted, she hadn’t seen much, but Kise’s hands and tongue were far more interesting anyway.

After escaping from the rain into her poky apartment, Kise had proceeded to strip off and wander around in a pair of tiny white boxers and loudly bemoan her lack of suitable clothing. He’d been occupied with leafing through old photos for a while and she’d been able to get some work done, but he had recently decided to make it as hard as fucking possible for her to concentrate.

He looks up at her, golden eyes smug, nose and mouth buried in her neck. His arms are wrapped around her like a vice, and she’s pretty much sitting in his lap now.

So she gives up and leans back, letting Kise rest his chin on her head, lithe hands playing along her belly.

“You’re incorrigible...” she tells him, grabbing his fingers and raising them to her mouth to kiss them.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes into her ear, and she melts a little, head lolling back.

Kise Ryouta always gets what he wants, and right now that is for Aida Riko to fall asleep in his arms, soothed by the rain, before he has to leave at three in the morning to take to the skies.


	3. jade

_green-_ _緑_

Aida jogs every morning as early as possible. She’s training for a marathon, but she might have to let up soon; her leg’s annoying her.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket as she pounds down the street. She stops and pulls her earphones out of her ears, and flips her phone open.

_Come over. Need your help. Big operation today, can’t find lucky item. –Midorima_

She laughs to herself, and remembers that Midorima doesn’t live far from here.

Ten minutes later, she’s knocking on his door impatiently. He opens it and she holds back a surprise gasp.

He looks terrible. His eyes are bloodshot, glasses askew and his bedhead rivals Kuroko’s. His left hand is bare and he wipes his eyes blearily.

She also registers that he isn’t wearing a shirt, and shoves that to the back of her mind.”What happened?”

“Takao. Booze cruise. Far too many shots. Think we stole a car. Woke up with the mother of all hangovers.”

“Oh. Makes sense. Go drink more water.” He’s clutching a bottle loosely in his hand.

He grumbles in assent and wanders into the kitchen, as she waits on his couch.

She pulls her iPod out, taps the ‘Oha Asa’ app and listens to the ridiculously cheery woman chatter on. She doesn’t even know why she has it, but she has a feeling that the person currently failing at using the sink had had something to do with it.

_Cancers, keep in mind your limitations and your desires! Accept any offers from Aquarius and Leo, no matter how much you wish not to! You lucky item today is a hairpin. The older the better! Have a good day!_

Her fingers brush along the black grips lodged in her hair, and Midorima walks back into his sitting room.

“I didn’t want to risk going shopping.” He sits down beside her and takes the iPod, scrolling through the predictions listlessly.

Aida watches him and his slumped shoulders and wrinkled eyebrows, and she blurts out, without thinking:

“I’ll let you borrow them.”

His head jerks up and his green eyes are wide with surprise as they fix on the black pins in her hair.

“On one condition.”

“Name it.” His eyes have frozen again.

“Can I...” God, she can’t believe she’s saying this. “Can I borrow your glasses? Just for now?”

He blinks at her owlishly. “...Sure.”

She reaches out her hand and delicately, oh so delicately, slides the glasses off his nose. The effect is instantaneous; he looks softer, younger, and less formidable. His eyes glitter at her and she senses his heart speeding up. He must feel vulnerable without them.

She dons the frames herself and the difference surprises her. Of course, she’s tried on Hyuuga’s glasses before, but his prescription is weak compared to Midorima’s. It’s like looking through magnifying glasses! If she keeps them on any longer she’ll get a headache, so she slides them into her hair.

His cheeks colour a little. “Aida...?” he asks, worriedly. He mustn’t be able to see a thing.

“I’m right here,” she tells him, and touches his hand to reassure him. He grabs her hand tight, like a lifeline.

“Don’t you dare leave!” he growls. “I’m useless without those.”

“Stop worrying! Now...” She reaches her other hand up to her fringe a pulls out one of the battered black clips, her last present from her mother. She gently pulls her hand out of his grasp, smoothes his hair away from his face, and slides the clip in. “There!”

He looks so funny, she thinks, without his glasses, his bandages or his shirt (she can’t help but glance at his chest every so often) and a hairclip pinning back his hair. As if he knows what she’s thinking, he huffs petulantly.

She looks at his bare hand, clutching hers and has another idiotic idea. “Where do you keep the bandages for your hand?”

If he finds this weird, he doesn’t question it. “In the red and white box in the top drawer of my bedside locker.”

She stands up. “I’ll go get them.” With that she makes for his room, pushing the door open carefully, noting the oiled hinges.

Midorima’s room is far neater than any man’s room has a right to be. His bed is made with grey sheets, the pillow bearing a divot in the shape of his head. Huge bookcases line the walls. A book on the human anatomy is open on the desk, which is piled high with papers. A picture of the Teiko middle school team hangs beside his diploma and another picture, one of the Shuutoku team. A higgledy-piggledy mess of old lucky items is shoved carelessly in the corner, a basketball balancing precariously atop the pile like a candle on a cake.

Aida picks her way over to the locker, complete with old receipts, worn books and a picture of a sage-haired woman and a dark man, a pouting green-haired boy sandwiched in between their smiling faces. She pulls the drawer open and pushes aside broken pens to get the box. As she walks out she unravels the bandages, testing their elasticity. They’re good quality.

She settle beside him and takes his left hand in hers, giving his glasses back with the other. While he’s preoccupied with getting the glasses back to the right angle, she starts to tape his little finger, wrapping the material carefully, making the edges overlap. He stays silent the entire time, eyes switching between her fingers and her face.

When his thumb is finished, Aida leans back. She doesn’t let go of his hand, and he makes no move either. _Shintarou,_ she thinks, distractedly. They stay like this for a while, hands loosely clasped, heads inclined towards each other.

“Do you have somewhere to go, Riko-san?” he asks.

“I...yeah.” She has to be in the gym in half an hour.

He unfolds himself awkwardly, hand slipping from hers. “I should be going, too. I have to kill Takao.”

She laughs at him. “Good luck with that. Sneaky bastard sees everything.”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, and they catch the light and flash. “That will be his downfall.”

She grins again and pulls herself up, stretching her arms, watching the way his eyes dart to the hem of her top as it is pulled upwards. “Take care. Drink more water. Ace that operation.”

“Of course.” As she makes for the door, he catches her arm and leans down to her ear.

“Thank you, Riko.” And he brushes his lips against her cheek, prods her towards the door and disappears into the bathroom.

She rubs her hand against her cheek and smiles, despite herself. “Shintarou, you tsundere idiot.”

And that is how Aida Riko and Midorima Shintarou begin to use each other’s first name.


	4. azure

_blue-_ 青

Aida will never for the life of her understand why Aomine insists on going outside without a coat.

“Fool!” she fumes at him. “Half the city’s down with the flu. You wanna join in?”

He folds his arms behind his head and smirks at her. “I’m too badass for a cold. Besides...” He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her tighter. “You’ll keep me warm, won’t you, Riko-chan?”

She grabs his arm and twists it behind his back and he squawks. “You’re not doing yourself any favours.”

“I give, I give!” She lets go, and he rubs his arm, throwing her a wounded look. “Why’d I get stuck with you?”

“Because only Kuroko and I will put up with you, Daiki.”

He ‘hrmphs’ and grabs her to him again.

It’s snowing. Not terribly hard, but enough to stick and make walking somewhat difficult, making Aida clutch Aomine’s arm. He doesn’t seem to have any trouble.

He does look cold, though, the tip of his nose and his ears reddening. He grumbles at her as she pinches his ear.

“Cold?” she questions.

“...Yeah.” he admits, grudgingly.

“Well, you’re lucky you have me.”

He shoots her a look, eyebrows knitted together as she rummages in the bag.

At last, she pulls out a hat and a scarf.

“Huh?” Aomine says, eloquently, as she shakes them out.

He knows she knits. She’s come on a lot in recent years, learning complicated stitches and methods. More than once, he’s whiled a day away absently watching her knit instead of filling out reports.

She stands up on the tip of her toes, cursing his height, as she twines the blue-grey scarf around his neck. His fingers clutch at the wool, soft and warm.

She shows him the hat next. “Look, it has kitty ears!” It’s black, and the ears flop down to cover his. “You can take them off, if you want.” She shoots him a glare, saying _do that and I will cut you_. “It’s reversible, too.” She turns it inside out to display a bright orange interior, crisscrossed with lines to resemble a basketball. “Well? What do you think?”

Aomine has no words. He takes the hat from her and pulls it on, adjusting the droopy ears. She claps a little, cheeks pink. He simply can’t hold himself back.

He draws her into his arms, crushing her a little. “I think,” he mutters, under his breath, “that you are the most idiotic, perfect, stupid and beautiful woman ever, and that you are going to kill me some day.”

She buries her head in his chest, body shaking with laughter.

“Fuck this. We’re going home.” He picks her up and slings her over his shoulder.

“Hey...! I thought we were gonna go ice-skating!” She beats her fist against his back. “Put me down, damn it!”

“I can think of better ways to keep warm and have... _fun_ than iceskating.” He growls at her jokingly, and her fists stop beating and start stroking his back.

“’S long as you keep the hat.”

“Don’t need the hat to be a kitty-cat, dear!” and she swears that he _purrs_ at her.

Later on in the heat of their apartment, Aida is draped over Aomine’s chest, eyes tracking the progress of snowflakes past the window. She lets out a sigh. “How come anything we try to do as a couple always ends up in sex?”

He stops running his fingers down her back, looking genuinely surprised. “Aren’t they meant to?”

“One track mind, as always.”

He looks her up and down, leering. “Not a bad track, if you ask me...!”

She reaches up and tugs the hat down over his eyes, ignores his sputtered protests, and kisses him again.

That is how Aida Riko and Aomine Daiki spend their winters, curled up in each other’s warmth.


	5. wisteria

_purple-_ 紫

“Pocky is not an acceptable ingredient in a salad!”

“Sugar is a vital nutrient!”

“In small amounts! Small!”

“But celery tastes like nothing~”

“That’s just because your taste buds are numbed with sugar!”

“Actually, it does kinda taste like nothing...” Himuro ventures.

The happy couple send him a glare and yell at in perfect synchronisation. “STAY OUT OF THIS!”

Himuro sighs and slumps back. “Worth a try.”

“What is it this time?” Kagami asks, frowning.

“Dinner.”

“I know that, moron. What in particular?” Murasakibara and Aida’s argument are infamous for their one subject; food. It is the only thing the otherwise idyllic couple argue about.

“Since he couldn’t dissuade her from making salad, he’s trying to convince her to put pocky into it.” Kagami pulls a face. Himuro agrees. “If it’s sweet, he’ll eat it.”

“Screwed up giant,” Kagami mutters. “What the fuck was with those burgers he made?”

“The ones with nori and anmitsu? God only knows.” Himuro represses a shudder at the memory.

 “Desserts are damn good, though.” Kagami doesn’t repress this memory, recalling a huge volcano of profiteroles made for Aida’s birthday, with strawberry sauce for lava and spun sugar for clouds.

“I’m amazed Aida isn’t overweight, living with him.”

“Coach kickboxes everyday for an hour.” Kagamigrins, watching as she tries to kick Muraskibara, who dodges while whining her name.

“Ri-chin, please! Pocky’s nice with _everything_!”

“Atsu, no! You can have it for dessert!”

“I thought the salad was dessert...”

“Salads aren’t dessert!”

“What about fruit salad?”

“Uh...point taken, but...this is a vegetable salad!”

“But it has tomatoes in it~”

“Tomatoes are vegetables!”

“They’re fruit!”

“They’re vegetables!”

“They’re fruit!”

“Vegetable!”

“Fruit!”

“Vegetable!”

“Fruit!”

“Vegetable!”

“Vegetable!”

“Fruit-! Ah, fuck!”

Murasakibara punches the air.”I win~” he whoops, in broken English. Himuro and Kagami wince. Engrish still hurts their ears, meaning watching TV sucks.

Aida pouts at him. Murasakibara notices and saunters over, pressing into her back and swaying from side-to-side. “Ah, don’t be angry, Ri-chin!”

She looks up at him and frowns. “Not forgiving you, Atsushi.”

“Ah, but you will...!” he drawls, and hoists her up to kiss him.

Kagami and Himuro sigh and turn away. Stuff like this is inevitable if you spend too long in the odd couples’ company.

Aida pulls away from Murasakibara dazedly. “Take out,” she decides, nodding. “Takeout’s nice.”

And that is why Aida Riko and Murasakibara Atsushi make the most dysfunctional yet perfect couple in the history of Japan.


	6. coral

_pink-_ _桃_

Momoi Satsuki is the pinnacle of human perfection, Aida thinks, with no small amount of jealousy. Spending more than five minutes in the girl’s company becomes an exercise in self loathing for Aida, otherwise known as Flattie among the student populace of Seirin, until she cracked their skulls open.

“Ah, Riko-chan, look at this dress! Wouldn’t it look perfect on you? It’s even padded at the chest! Like it was made for you! I’m so jealous you can buy street clothes! My mom has to alter every single piece of clothing I buy...”

 _Grin and bear it,_ she thinks, and wonders if the girl is doing this on purpose.

When she turns around and deigns to look at the clothes, Aida has to admit that it would look good.  The red of the dense material is slightly faded and the belt is a complementary navy. It’s high necked and belted, with a cinched in waist and a flared skirt that would flatter her.

“I don’t have anywhere to wear something like that.” she admits, grudgingly.

Momoi blinks at her uncomprehendingly. “When have you ever needed something in order to buy it?”

“...You know what, I’ll take it.” Aida takes the dress and gently places it into the shopping basket atop Momoi’s mounds of potential purchases that she’ll probably dump just before they get to the checkout.

“Good! Now, shoes!” Momoi’s eyes light up, and her fingers fasten around Aida’s elbow, and she drags her off to the shoe section, where Aida has to haggle her down from a skyscraper heel to a kitten.

In the café next to the shop, as Momoi digs into a slice of cherry torte and Aida fiddles with her salad, picking out the celery and shuddering at the tomatoes, the other girl nudges the bags with her foot. “This shopping trip was meant to be for you, but I bought so much more...! I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine!” Aida smiles. “I’m not one for shopping, just as long as we get to stop by a book store and the videogame place.”

“Oh, yeah!”Momoi beams. “I wanted to go in there and check out that new basketball sim game.”

 “Me too!” Aida claps.

“Ooh, we can play online! I’ll crush you, Riko-chan!”

“Satsuki-chan, with my skills you’ll be dead in one hit.”

Momoi laughs, a tinkling of bells, and Aida feels a blush rise to her cheeks.

She lets her eyes slide to the side so that she won’t have to stare at Momoi, and in the corner of her eye catches a familiar flash of dark blue.

 _Aomine,_ she thinks darkly. Kuroko had warned her earlier.

When Momoi had wandered off into a sweetshop, Aida had taken the opportunity to check out the sports shop opposite. In there she had bumped into Kuroko (he’d freaked her out as per usual, popping up beside her soundlessly) who had been buying a new pair of boots. Kagami, drunk after a session with Himuro and Alex, had managed to break into his apartment and steal his Lebrons. Kagami’s monstrous feet had ripped poor Kuroko’s smaller boots open at the seams.

“Typical Kagami!” Aida sighs.

“I believe he thought I was Aomine. I’m still not sure how he managed to pick the lock while being...well, _locked_. I think I gave him a heart attack, though. I’ll have to apologise.” Kuroko’s face is placid, but she can detect a note of smug humour beneath his calm voice. Aida smiles at him widely; without fail, Kuroko always manages to cheer her up.

“You are out shopping with Momoi-chan, correct?” He stares at her unflinchingly.

“Are you psychic?” she deadpans.

“No, but I met Aomine earlier with Kise. They said something about you two and ‘hot lesbian action.’ I declined to accompany them.”

“Idiots...!” she hisses beneath her breath.

Kuroko glances at his watch. “I apologise, Aida, but I have to get back to work. I shall see you soon?”

“Sure. Have fun with the ankle biters!” She waves cheerfully.

Kuroko pulls a pained expression. “Aida, that was _one time_ -“

“And you’ll never live it down. Bye!” She twinkles at him, and he sighs and turns around towards the checkout.

“Riko-chan? Are you okay?” Momoi looks at her anxiously

“I’m fine, Satsuki-chan!” Aida reassures the rose-haired girl.

“You...don’t feel uncomfortable? Being out with me?”

Momoi can express so many things with her magenta eyes, and Aida feels her heart melt.

“Why on earth would I be ashamed of you?”she tells her, taking her small hand under the table. “You’re perfect, Satsuki-chan.”

Momi’s cheeks flush to match her hair. “You too, Riko-chan” she smiles.

Aida considers her options for a short while, then thinks that Aomine and Kise can go fuck themselves, and leans over and kisses Momoi’s glossy lips.

Momoi make a sound of surprise in her throat, and pulls back, staring at Aida. “I...thank you, Riko-chan! I was...Wah!” Momoi throws her arms around her, sobbing, and from the other side of the café, Aida hears a distinct ‘fuck yeah!’ that sounds suspiciously like a certain blue-haired fool she knows.

Aida Riko and Momoi Satsuki, on discovering their sexuality, realise that they couldn’t care less.


	7. sable

_black-_ _黒_

The sun is skimming the horizon as Kuroko sits down beside her, two vanilla shakes in hand. Wordlessly, he holds one out to her.

“You didn’t have to, you know.” She tilts her head at him.

“I wanted you to have one. They’re nice,” he says, simply, so she accepts it from him.

Aida doesn’t have much a sweet tooth, but when she’d heard Kagami teasing Kuroko about his vanilla shakes, Aida had asked what they tasted like. Kuroko promised he would buy her one, and he’d made good on that offer when he’d popped up behind her in the fast-food joint and accidentally made her drop her lemonade.

She brings the straw to her lips, and is surprised when the taste hits her tongue. It’s a lot nicer than she would have thought; sweet in a subtle way. It doesn’t compare to chocolate or strawberry in terms of sweetness, but Aida prefers this taste. Kuroko smiles inwardly, eyes softening, and Aida realises that if Kuroko were a food, he would almost certainly be this.

“I hope this is okay,” he says.

“More than okay. I think I’ve found my new favourite drink!” she tells him, and almost unnoticeably, Kuroko lights up.

Silence reigns while Aida absentmindedly sucks on her milkshake, watching Kuroko’s reflection in the window. His blue hair and pale skin cast a contrast against the slowly darkening sky.

“Aida-san.” Kuroko calls her and she looks at him quickly, and for a second her eyes scan him.

He’s under average, even for a normal boy, nothing next to his giant, talented friends. But Aida can see past that; if she knows someone well enough, she can look into their heart. The analysis confirms it; Kuroko Tetsuya is possibly the nicest person she knows.

 _No wonder she’s in love with him_ , she thinks, finally admitting it.

Kuroko calls her name again, and she snaps out of her reverie only to look straight into his blue eyes, and she’s gone again, like a foolish schoolgirl with a silly crush.

“Aida-san,” he says, sounding worried, and he snaps his fingers in front of her eyes.

“Huh?” Aida reels back.”I-I’m sorry, I just...got distracted.”

“That’s fine,” he says. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I am now.” She smiles at him and she wonders if she’s imagining the faint blush colouring his cheeks.

“Um, Kuroko-kun?”

“Yes, senpai?” He looks so trusting her heart constricts.

“Do you mind if I...” She can’t say it, she can’t.

But somehow, Kuroko understands, Kuroko always does, and he takes the top off his milkshake and pushes it towards her. “Please share it with me, Riko-san.”

She plucks the straw out of her one, plops it into the shake, and begins to drink.

If either Kuroko or Aida were in any way aware of the world outside each other, they would have noticed some of their teammates observing their ‘date.’

Koganei pops up above his seat to watch, and forcefully Kagami pushes him back down. “Stay down, cat-face!”

“But~” Koganei whimpers. “I can’t see~”

“You don’t need to,” Izuki observes. “You can almost feel the puppy love in the air.”

Tsuchida sighs nostalgically. “Ah, reminds me of myself and Keiko in the early days...”

Mitobe simply looks worriedly at his friends, silently emanating waves of disapproval. He had been opposed to it, but had gotten dragged along anyways, which was the rule rather than the exception in poor Mitobe’s life.

The first years celebrate quietly.

“Finally!” grins Furihata.

“Go get ‘em, Kuroko!” says Kawahara.

“Way to go, Coach!” claps Fukuda.

In their own little world, the milk shake finished, Aida and Kuroko stare at each other awkwardly. “Tetsuya-kun-“

“Riko-san, please be quiet.” Before she knows it, Kuroko has planted a chaste kiss on her chapped lips and left in his invisible fashion.

Aida slumps back and touches her lips.

Kagami falls out of his seat.

And that is how Aida Riko and Kuroko Tetsuya initiate their awkward, stuttering yet destined courtship.

_Vermilion, goldenrod, viridian, cerulean, lavender, peach and ebony;_

_Aida Riko knows them all._


End file.
